Just Between Friends
by intheclosetcontest
Summary: Best friends Bella & Angela are madly in love with their high school boyfriends, but are frustrated with their slow moving relationships.  At a sleep over one crazy night they fumble their way to sexual satisfaction.


**Title: Just Between Friends  
****Pairing: Bella/Angela  
****Word Count: 7,682  
****Rating: M  
****Summary: Best friends Bella & Angela are madly in love with their high school boyfriends, but are frustrated with their slow moving relationships. At a sleep over one crazy night they fumble their way to sexual satisfaction.**

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Edward's lips were familiar and warm. Warm enough to melt butter. And so I melted, my eyes fluttering, knees buckling, and body pressing into every masculine line of him. His hands gripped my hips roughly and my inner voice shouted out in victory.

Yes! Edward was finally going to take things to the next level. In my head I did a happy dance.

That was until I felt my hips being shoved forcefully away from his glorious body.

Damn! I had mistaken his touch for passion, foolishly convinced myself that he wanted me as much as I wanted him. I should have expected his rebuff, but instead I let myself hope that he felt it too. The desire, the throbbing, the intensity between us that I couldn't help but act on. Only apparently, he could help it.

"Bella, we have to stop," he said, out of breath from our enthusiastic kissing. Taking a step back, he sat down on the stairs, his chest still heaving, his hair looking sexier than usual in a state of disarray.

His kiss and harsh rejection had left me panting and empty. I slid down the wall, my legs unwilling to hold up the rest of me.

Damn him and his insistent desire to take it slow. Damn his willpower. And damn his delicious body and beautiful face.

"You are utterly breathtaking when you are all flushed and out of breath," He said, crawling to lean up against the wall beside me. His fingers found my cheek and stroked the heated skin reverently just before he leaned in and kissed me sweetly on the lips. Edward sighed contently and turned to drop his head back against the wall.

How could he be content at a time like this? My eighteen year old hormones were screaming at me to do something anything to relieve the pressure that was building up inside of me. And Edward was relaxed and satisfied.

"And you are positively infuriating when you act all gentlemanly." I huffed, sexual frustration saturating my tone.

The throbbing between my legs hadn't had time to dissipate when he flashed me that sexy ass crooked smile of his.

Doesn't he know what that smile does to my already desperate body? My nipples hardened and thighs burst into flames – did he not notice that? One of these days I would spontaneously combust right in front of him and he would only have himself and his stupid boundaries to blame.

His features softened and he leaned in for another chaste kiss. His lips never left my skin as they worked their way along my jaw and to the hollow just below my ear.

"Bella," he breathed into my flushed skin, causing a cool heat and goose bumps to travel along my neck and arms. "You know why I want to wait. I won't rush things with you, you are far too precious to me and I don't want to mess things up by going too far too fast."

I know, I know. Edward loves me and adores me and won't touch be because of it. He meant to comfort me but instead his words only frustrated me more. Aren't love and lust supposed to go hand in hand so to speak? At least for me they did.

I didn't want to be mad at him. He was the man I loved, my soul mate and I knew that he was showing me how much he valued me by his restraint. So I forced myself to calm down and rest my head on his shoulder, willing the pulsing between my legs to slowly subside.

I could feel his lips brush against my hair just before he stood up and offered me his hand. "Come on, beautiful. We had better get going or we'll be late for dinner."

Oh yeah. I had completely forgotten about dinner with Edward's parents tonight. I took his hand and allowed him to pull me up and help me with my coat. As we walked out to the car, I said a silent prayer that the combination of the chilly weather and conversation with Edward's mom and dad would distract from the desire that was clouding everything else from my mind.

Unfortunately, the cold and even the parental interaction did nothing to subdue the steady ache I felt between my legs. Even as we sat just inches from his parents I couldn't help but stare at Edward's strong hands.

What I wouldn't give to feel them wrapped around my ass as he pulled me to him forcibly.

"Are you alright dear? You look a little flushed?" Esme asked, concern knotting her perfectly manicured eyebrows together.

"Yes, yes, I'm fine. It just seems a little warm in here," I prattled on, sipping on my ice water in an attempt to put out the fire.

I was actually beginning to cool down when the entrees came. Only then, I was captivated by the way that Edward's lips would wrap around his pasta and I couldn't help but imagine what it would feel like to feel them closing around my nipple.

"Ugh" I moaned, unable to hold back my reaction to the thought of Edward's mouth on my breast.

All eyes at the table were on me.

"This chicken is unbelievable," I covered, popping another bite into my mouth and repeating the moan again, this time accompanied by a roll of the eyes.

Oh god, please let them think it is just the food that has me this excited.

Conversation picked up again and I was relieved that they had moved on without another word about my little outburst.

Keep it together! I told myself. I only had to make it through dessert and then Edward would kiss me and drop me off and then maybe when he was out of sight, the throbbing would stop.

Only I couldn't stop staring at his long fingers as he used them to wipe a spot of chocolate off of his cheek.

I shivered violently at the thought of those fingers sliding against the slick skin between my legs, which at the moment was rhythmically begging for his touch.

"Bella, honey, I am getting worried." Esme interrupted. She placed the back of her hand against my forehead. "I think you might be coming down with something. You're so flush and yet shivering. We should get you home so that you can rest."

Of course, Edward overacted, concerned that I may in fact be getting ill. "You do seem a little off tonight. Maybe I should just bring you straight home."

"No, Edward. I'm fine, really. It just feels hot in here with all the candles and everything. Besides, Angela is expecting me," I insisted. She and I had been having Friday night sleepovers since elementary school and now that we both had serious boyfriends, it seemed like the only time we had for girl talk.

"Are you sure?" He asked, not yet convinced.

"Yes, once we get some fresh air I will feel much better."

"He's maddeningly gentle with me!" I whined as Angela painted my toes a deep plum color. "I mean, maybe I don't want to be treated like a porcelain doll anymore. Maybe I want to experience things with him. Has he ever thought of that?"

After carefully applying the paint to my tiniest toe she finished and sighed sympathetically. "I know," she agreed. "Men are idiots. Ben and I have been together for six months now and he hasn't even tried to get to second base. Sometimes I think he considers it, but then he gets all nervous and goes back to watching the movie. I mean, what teenage couple actually gets together to watch a movie. Isn't that supposed to be code for 'fool around?'"

"I don't know," I laughed. "Maybe Edward and Ben need a translator or something."

"Maybe," she giggled and threw popcorn at me.

Thank goodness I had a trusted friend like Angela that I could talk to about this kind of thing. Otherwise I think the sexual frustration would drive me insane. Literally.

"So has Edward ever tried to…" she trailed off suggestively. She could mean any number or things - not that it mattered, the answer to all of them was the same.

"No. In case you haven't noticed, he's kind of intense and I guess now that I think about it maybe a little insecure. He's always worried about loosing me. It seems like he's scared that if we go too fast, we'll end up breaking up or something."

She was twisting the drawstring of her shorts around her index finger. "But if he wanted to you know, do stuff, you would?"

"Definitely," I sighed, remembering how disappointed and let down I felt after Edward stopped things earlier that night.

"Like what?" She asked, her eyes lighting up with curiosity.

Anything. I would be happy with anything at this point. My body was in a constant state of wanting. "I guess I just want him to touch me somewhere more interesting than the small of my back or my cheek."

"MmmHmm," she nodded emphatically. "I wonder what that would feel like."

"Edward accidentally grabbed my boob one time when he was reaching for the remote. He turned bright red and ran to the bathroom," I laughed. It would be even funnier if it hadn't been the only time he had ever touched me there.

"What was it like…before he ran off?" she wondered.

I remembered the feeling right away. "Exciting," I told her. "At first I thought he was leaning over to kiss me…or more." I rolled my eyes, remembering the rest of the story. "But then I just felt embarrassed. Doesn't he want to touch my boobs? Are they really that bad?"

Now it was Angela's turn to laugh. "Of course not. You have great boobs."

"Are you sure they're not too little?" I asked, walking to the mirror over the vanity, slipping off my T-shirt and turning to the side. I was wearing a blue and white polka dotted bra that clasped in the front. Not exactly Victoria's Secret catalogue material, but it got the job done.

Angela mirrored my movements. She seemed to be assessing our forms reflected in the glass. "Definitely not. What is it that Mike said that one time on the bus? More than a handful is just a waste? Besides, yours are bigger than mine."

She was right. Hers were smaller, but I didn't think that was a bad thing. She was tall and slender, so her petite breasts still accented her frame perfectly.

Angela's bra was pink and had white trimming. The circular rim of her nipples showed through the thin cotton. How could any man find her body unappealing?

"Yeah, but you're thinner than me," I argued, "So they're still proportional to your body. And perky," I added.

That satisfied her and she playfully wiggled her shoulders in the mirror, jiggling her perky little breasts in my direction. "Thanks Bells, you're a good friend."

"Best friend," I confirmed.

"Best best friend," she agreed, throwing her arms around me and pulling me into a tight hug. I felt a little weird hugging my best friend in just our bras, but my arms automatically wound around her waist and squeezed back.

A similar awkward feeling must have washed over Angela, judging by the sheepish look on her face when we stepped back.

I tried to think of something to say to break the silence, so I blurted out the first thing that came into my head. "I think my thighs are too big." Not a lie. I've always been a little self conscious about them, but I don't usually dwell on superficial things like that.

"No way, Bella. You have great legs." We both turned to examine the offending body part in the mirror.

I pinched the skin of my inner thigh and gave it a shake. "See what I mean. Its all jiggly. Right here."

Angela gave me a dramatic roll of the eyes. "Oh please." She slid her hand over my leg, where I had just released the skin. Her hands were cold and a shiver traveled up my leg, causing funny earthquakes to erupt in my belly. "Your thighs do not jiggle." She made a lame attempt at wiggling the skin. "See – no jiggle."

"I don't know…" I eyed her skeptically, distracted by the sight of her slender fingers wrapped around my pale skin as well as the shivers that were circuiting from my inner thigh to my abdomen.

She stood and abruptly hooked her thumbs into her shorts, pulling them down a few inches lower. I could clearly see the tan line from the two piece she wore last week when her family traveled to Florida for Christmas with her grandparents.

"At least you don't have freakish hipbones that poke out far enough to stab someone's eye out," she complained.

The absurdity of her analogy and fluttering in my belly caused a sharp laugh to slip past my lips. I reached out to touch her exposed hipbone and pulled my hand away quickly, teasing her as I squealed "ouch!"

I faintly registered the fact that I should have been self conscious about the contact, but I began to feel as if a weight had been lifted off my shoulders. Breast and thighs and hips had been such a taboo topic, a source of tension recently and it felt good to be discussing them so lightheartedly.

What was Edward so uptight about anyway? Angela touching me felt good…I mean okay. It's not like our friendship would suddenly disintegrate after this. My relationship with Edward was even stronger – epic even. A physical connection would only bring us closer together. At least it seemed to be going fine with Angela. We were both laughing hysterically, holding our stomachs and shaking.

"This must be what it would be like to hang out with Lauren and Jessica all day," I said when I had enough air to speak. "Complaining about boys and obsessing over our looks."

Angela flopped onto the bed, still chuckling. "Mike, oh Mike," she sang dramatically. "Do you think Mike likes me? Do you think he will like me in this bra? Do you think he will like me if I dye my hair purple?"

"And the award for the best Jessica impression goes to…" I paused to drum on my thighs briefly before shouting, "Angela Weber!"

She stood on the bed now, shocked and grateful as she bowed and caught invisible kisses from the pretend crowd.

"I have so many people to thank; I don't know where to start. I guess I first need to than my very best friend, Bella for never letting me forget how to use sarcasm appropriately and Mike Newton, for never giving Jessica the time of day!"

Just then we heard a knock at the door and we both dove for the covers, pulling them up over our exposed tops.

Luckily, we were quick enough to get covered completely before Angela's mom poked her head in the room. "Girls, it's getting late. Bella's dad will be here by seven to pick her up. You need to get some sleep now."

"Okay," we said in unison.

Mrs. Weber must have been pacified because she turned off he lights and shut the door behind her.

"I wish you didn't have to leave so early in the morning," Angela whispered. I could still see her bottom lip pout in the light that streamed in through the window. We usually closed the curtains to keep out the rays of the streetlights, but in our haste to cover up, hadn't taken the time.

"I know, me too. But Edward's concert is in Seattle tomorrow and Charlie wants to stop at this big sporting store they have out there beforehand. So we'll have to leave pretty early."

"Oh yeah. I forgot that Edward has a big penis - I mean that he is a big time pianist," she teased.

"Good one," I said, my tone laced with sarcasm. She effectively blocked the pillow I swung at her and we giggled softly, afraid of waking her mom.

"Well, goodnight then," Angela said, turning on her side and tucking the comforter under her chin.

"Night," I whispered settling in, still on my back.

Should I get up and put my shirt back on? It felt weird sleeping without it, but Angela made no move to go get her shirt, so I decided it would be good practice for me to get comfortable being topless, kind of. Maybe someday Edward would decide he was ready to see me in my bra and I would be damned if I was too shy to let him.

I could hear Angela's breathing slow and sink into a steady rhythm, but I was unable to fall asleep. My mind kept on playing back the strange events of the night. From the heated kiss I had shared with Edward, to the uncomfortable outbursts at dinner, to the silly night with Angela.

I was remembering the way her fingers looked, wrapped around my leg, when I was surprised by the sound of Angela's voice. "Bella? Are you awake?"

"Yeah," I sighed, rolling onto my side to face her.

She turned to face me as well so that we could talk in hushed voices. Mrs. Weber would be ticked if she caught us up again.

"I can't stop wondering what it would feel like," she said.

"What do you mean?" I pressed.

"You know, to have Ben touch my boob. I want to feel that excited thing you were talking about," she explained

"Yeah, I want to feel it again too. This sucks," I added sympathetically.

"Yeah," she agreed.

We listened silently for a few minutes, but there was no sound in the house except for our breathing.

"Have you ever tried, um, touching yourself?" I whispered, quieter than before

"No – have you?" she asked.

"Well, kind of, once. But I felt stupid, so I stopped," I admitted; only slightly embarrassed.

"I think guys do it all the time," she said. "So we shouldn't feel stupid."

"I guess so," I replied, still skeptical.

"I'm gonna try it," she announced.

I was slightly stunned by her confidence. "Okay."

"Do you think it will feel exciting even though I know it is only my own hand?" she wondered.

Hmm. I had never thought about it. "I don't know," I responded after some deliberation.

"Well, I'm going to find out," she whispered while bringing her hand up to her collar bone. She bit her lip nervously and then slipped her fingers under her bra. I kept my eyes focused on her face, but I could still see the movement of her hand on her breast through my peripheral vision. It only lasted a minute. Then she brought her hand out to rest on the bed again.

"Well?" I asked.

She sighed. "Nothing. I felt nothing."

I nodded sympathetically. "I suppose there is no excitement when it's just you."

"Maybe I'll never know," she huffed, flinging her arm up in frustration. I couldn't help but notice the way that breasts bounced with the movement.

What's the big freaking deal? They're just breasts, I thought. What are the boys so afraid of?

Maybe it was my frustration with Ben and Edward. Maybe it was the sympathy I felt for my friend. Maybe it was the way my eye was drawn to the shape of her nipple under her thin bra.

But for whatever reason, I reached out and cupped my hand under her breast, lifting it until I saw more skin spill over the top of the white trimming of her bra.

Angela's eyes popped out in surprise and she inhaled sharply. I was about to pull my hand back, throw my clothes back on and run the whole way to my house, when I felt the weight of her hand cover mine.

Her eyes closed and she took over, pressing my palm further into her soft flesh. When her hand stilled, I pulled away and muttered a quiet, "I'm sorry," while trying to find a safe place to look. The ceiling seemed to work just fine.

"No," she whispered sharply. "Do it again. I think I felt it."

"Seriously?" I asked, astonished.

"It was different when it was your hand. I think I might have started to feel excited."

Keeping my eyes locked on the ceiling, I brought my hand to her again, this time squeezing and releasing in rhythm to the throbbing sensation that was back in full force. I hadn't ever gone away completely, but now it felt like someone was playing the bongos in my underwear.

"Do you feel it?" I whispered, still too shy to look at what my hand was doing.

"Kind of," she replied. "Wait!" she said, sliding my hand up and off her breast.

Her sudden outburst caused me to look away from the spot on the ceiling that I had focused on and down at what she was doing. Her hands slipped behind her back and then suddenly her bra went slack.

She looked at me, gauging my reaction. I wanted to ask her if it would be weird, but apparently she was okay with me seeing her and if I really thought about it, I was okay with it too. She was my best friend after all.

There must have been enough in my expression to convince her, because she brought her arms back around to the front of her body and slipped the straps of her bra down, revealing the pale skin of her breasts to me.

They too had swimsuit lines outlining the unseen parts of her. I think I must taken a second or two to acclimate myself with the sight of her before I attempted to touch anything.

Like we had discussed earlier, she was smaller than me, but I could still see the swell of her skin on the underside of each breast. Her nipples were darker than mine, a rosy red color and perfectly circular. I noticed the way that they tightened slightly as I continued to look at them.

My hand was still resting on her ribs just above the newly exposed flesh. Should I touch her? That must be what she wants, right?

Don't feel weird about this. It's just Angela, I reminded myself. But I was astonished to find that I didn't feel weird at all.

She must have had enough of my stalling because she gently picked up my hand and placed it fully on her bare breast. Instinctively, I began moving my hand, kneading the soft flesh.

When I stole a glance at Angela's face, her eyes were closed, her expression serene.

I stopped massaging her and brought my thumb in to sweep along the bottom curve of her nipple, feeling the rougher texture there. A quiet squeak escaped from her lips as I brushed my thumb across the hardened peak.

We both froze and listened to see if we had woken Angela's mother.

My hand was still on her breast as we waited, our eyes locked on the door.

"I think the coast is clear," she said after a long moment of silence and I needed no further incentive to continue my exploration.

This time, I kept my eyes focused on her body and the way that my hand was manipulating it.

There was no thinking – just doing, feeling really.

I studied the shape of her, alternating between gentle squeezes and attention to her nipple. I couldn't stop looking at her and at my hand on her breast. It was intoxicating and I faintly registered the fact that my body was reacting to what I was doing as well.

As I continued, she began to make soft sounds - sighs and low moans, but nothing loud enough to draw the attention of her parents who were just across the hall. Her nipples were unbelievably hard now and I noticed her begin to squirm just below the covers that fell around her waist.

This distracted me and I halted my movements, brining my hand back to my side of the bed. This time when I looked up, Angela's eyes were fixed on my face. Her cheeks were rosy and eyes alive.

"Was it exciting?" I asked.

She nodded silently, seriously, only waiting a moment or two to gauge my reaction before slowly sliding her hand across the mattress. Her index finger traced the outline of my bra, her eyes seeking out my permission.

My brain actually functioned long enough to tell me yes, I did want this…whatever it was…I wanted it to continue. It was new, unexpected, but most of all thrilling.

I nodded slightly, giving her permission and she wasted no time, slipping her fingers beneath the edge of my bra. I bit my lip to hold back the sound that wanted to escape as her soft, feminine fingers traced in slow circles around my breast.

Never breaking contact between her right hand and my body, she used her left hand to flick open the front clasp of my bra, revealing my breasts in one quick motion. The cold air that came into contact with my newly uncovered skin was a sharp reminder that I was suddenly exposed to her.

She whispered softly, her eyes taking in the sight of me. "You're beautiful Bella."

It was my turn to squirm. Not out of discomfort, but instinctually as I became more aroused with each touch, each word that she said.

She used both hands now to explore the silky skin of my breasts and the pads of her fingers to tease the rougher skin at the peak. I bit down on the edge of the pillow when she took my nipples between two fingers and pulled slightly and then rolled them back and forth. I think an obscenity may have slipped out but it was muffled by the pillow.

"Holly shit, Angela. That felt incredible." I whispered, bringing my hands to her breasts again. She had to feel it too.

I repeated the move that had me practically eating the pillow and was rewarded with the sight of Angela's eyes rolling back into her head.

I couldn't stop there. I was falling – no jumping off a cliff now and there was no way to hit rewind and plant my feet back on the ground.

So when she leaned forward and kissed the top swell of my breast, I encouraged her by wrapping my fingers around sections of her hair, pulling her mouth closer to the center.

Here eyes were locked on mine as she followed my lead and worked her lips down my breast until they hovered over my nipple. Her breath washed over the sensitive skin there and I arched into her at the same time that her tongue slipped past her lips. She tasted me hesitantly in one small stroke before closing her lips around the tight peak.

I could feel her suck my skin into her mouth and circle it with her smooth tongue. The sensation of her tongue caressing that private piece of my body coupled with the sight of her mouth around my breast was the most erotic thing I had ever experienced.

My vision had gradually narrowed until all that I remained was Angela and I alone and exploring in her bed, cocooned by the soft glow of the streetlamp.

I had wanted this for so long – in a different way, but still, it felt good.

She continued to taste me and touch me, working me over with her tongue and fingers until I was panting and needy.

The throbbing between my legs was almost painful now and impossible to ignore. I wiggled my hips and rubbed my legs together intuitively. I realized this only seconds before noticing that she was mirroring my actions exactly.

We both needed this, I realized, bringing my hands to her stomach and circling her tiny belly button. The skin was so soft and distinctly feminine. Nothing like the firm planes of Edward's stomach, which was also accented by rough hair that trailed down to his waistband.

I remembered what it felt like to touch him there when we played Marco Polo one time in his pool. He backed up from my touch immediately, but Angela only scooted her hips closer to me on the bed, beckoning me to her.

As her tongue did magical things to my sensitive breasts, I slid my hands across her stomach, over the swell of her hips to cup her ass. Those sleep shorts she was wearing covered little and I could feel the skin at the underside of her bottom beneath my fingers. I swept along this newly discovered area, eliciting a giggle from Angela.

She pulled her lips from my body only long enough to tell me that I had tickled her. Now she was kissing and tasting my shoulder, ribs, the valley of my breasts, and everywhere in between, igniting every inch of skin that she touched. My body prickled and shivered beneath her lips. It felt amazing.

I was desperate for more, and I hooked my thumbs under the waistband of her sleep shorts, pulling them down her legs. She kicked them off effortlessly and I returned quickly to her underwear, checking her expression for any sign that she wanted to stop.

Instead, I found her nodding slightly and lifting her hips off of the mattress. I slid them down her legs with shaky hands, still unsure, but slowly gaining confidence. She took over once they reached her knees, kicking off the fabric as my hands crept back up her thighs and skimmed over her backside.

I felt the softness of Angela's skin and nothing else. Was there anything else left in the world beside the feel of her beneath my fingers and the sight of her sweetly manipulating my body? I didn't think so.

We both stopped at the same time and just stared into each other's eyes for a minute, silently communicating. She didn't want to stop this any more than I did, so I let my gaze wander down from her round eyes to the hollow at the base of her neck and further down to her breasts which were now rising and falling with her labored breaths. I was distracted for several seconds by the fluid up and down movement of them, like waves in the ocean. But I continued my journey down her body, excited by each new section of skin.

When I reached the hipbones she had made fun of earlier in the night I stopped, trying to see the flaws she saw, but failing miserably, because directly below them was a sight that had me biting my own lip hard enough to draw blood.

It was Angela's naked form, not only bare of clothing, but completely bare in every sense of the word.

I stared, mouth agape, completely aroused by the sight of her feminine figure.

I felt like such an idiot after the words tumbled unceremoniously from my mouth. "You're bare?" I stated and questioned all at once.

Angela's knees crossed, hiding her from my view and I could sense her embarrassment immediately.

Her explanation was awkward and rushed. "My aunt signed us up for a spa package through the hotel we were staying at last week. It included a massage, manicure, pedicure, facial, and…waxing. "

"Oh," I said simply, now feeling a little ashamed of my more natural appearance.

My brow furrowed after she failed to uncross her legs and I felt a sinking sensation as I realized that after all we had shared, I had managed to make her feel uncomfortable.

I slid my hands slowly along her knees and up her slender thighs, gently applying pressure, encouraging her to open up to me again. "You look so soft," I said honestly, hoping to encourage her to trust me again.

She complied, opening her legs slightly so that I could see her again. "Really?" She replied, unsure.

"MmmHmm," I told her, bringing my finger back to circle her belly button. I was asking for permission to touch her and I think she knew it.

There was a long moment of silence as our eyes met again. I wasn't sure if it was awkward or not.

Then she dropped her gaze down to my hands and I followed her. We both watched as I moved them slowly down her abdomen, giving her plenty of time to protest if that was what she wanted to do.

But she never stopped me.

I reached my destination and we both watched as my finger parted her and slipped between the folds of her skin.

"Bella," she croaked out softly, arching her back and pressing her body further into my fingers. I could only make out the peak of her chin as her head tipped back, pressing into the pillow, her breasts pointing to the ceiling above her arched back.

The way her body moved in response to my touch was unbelievably sexy and only encouraged me to continue.

My novice finger sought out her clit and I stroked her firmly once, twice, three times to memorize the feel of her. I was relieved and amazed to find her wet and slick, just like I knew I was.

"What feels good?" I asked tentatively.

"Just…like…this," she whispered, placing her hand on top of mine, guiding me as I circled and stroked her. She increased the pressure of our fingers each time we circuited the top of her swollen clit.

Once we had found a desirable rhythm, she moved her hand to my hip and squeezed as I circled her sensitive flesh with the pad of my finger and experimented with my rounded fingernail.

She clutched at the comforter, bringing it to her mouth to stifle the sounds that she was unable to hold back.

"More?" I asked and she nodded.

I circled her entrance with my thumb and she shifted her hips closer to me. It took a while to find a comfortable position, but eventually I was able to coordinate the movements of a finger moving inside of her with my thumb circling her clit in the motion she had shown me earlier.

Her breathing was speeding and I could sense that something was happening. She sounded almost desperate as she pleaded with me. "Faster now…harder."

My wrist and thumb were burning from the effort, but I was determined to make her come and the closer she got, the more turned on I became. My hips and thighs were shifting in time with the movements of my fingers.

I watched, amazed as Angela's body arched again and she bit harshly into her comforter. I could actually feel the tremors inside her as she came, a heat building inside of me as I watched her legs tremble.

All I could feel was her slick skin, throbbing at the same pace as my own. All I could hear was the muffled cries coming from my best friend's mouth. And all I could think about was I did this. I made her feel like this.

"Fuuuck" she moaned as silently as possible as I continued to stroke her gently. "That was…it felt…damn," she mumbled incoherently. A sly smile slowly spread across her face.

We lay there quietly on our backs, catching our breath and listening for any signs of movement in the house.

There were several minutes of just breathing before Angela flipped onto her side. "Your turn," she said with a sly smile.

"You don't have to," I replied, but she was already sliding my shorts and underwear down my legs.

I wondered if I should feel embarrassed that I was not waxed like she was but I was distracted as it suddenly occurred to me that Angela and I were now both naked in her bed. It might have felt strange in the bright light of day, but the soft glow of the streetlight felt warm and safe.

I shifted onto my back as she scooted closer to my side of the mattress. Anticipation rooted itself in my belly as I watched her body draw closer to mine.

I closed my eyes and allowed my body to simply feel as her hand skimmed my knee and thigh. She was so close. So close to where I wanted her hands to be. The throbbing grew and grew until it pulsed in my ears, blocking out any other sound.

And then I could feel her delicate fingers slip against my wet skin. I couldn't contain the shudder that wracked my body at that first touch. Familiar yet unexpected.

With my head thrown back, and my eyes squeezed shut I rode out the pleasure she was giving me thinking of nothing but feeling everything.

Her fingers sliding against me, inside me. Her warm breath on my neck. The cool tips of her breast resting against my bicep. And her arm pumping against my stomach as she worked me closer and closer to completion.

Every inch of my skin was now smoldering with heat, the warmth reaching a tingling peak in my abdomen.

I think I was making some kind of sound. I could hear it faintly in my ears, just over the pulsing that blocked out everything else.

My knees began to wobble and my hips sought her out, desperate for that last little bit of friction before I came completely undone.

But before I could get there, she pulled away suddenly.

"Your phone," she said, snapping me back to reality.

I finally allowed my sensed to take in something outside of the world of Angela and I and suddenly realized that my phone was vibrating on the bedside table.

It was two in the morning. Edward sometimes called this late if he couldn't sleep. But a call from him tonight was completely unexpected. I figured he would want to go to bed early in anticipation of tomorrow's concert.

Sure enough, my caller ID cleared up any confusion. Edward lit up the display and I sat up on the edge of the bed and quickly accepted his call even though I was still breathing heavily from my almost-orgasm.

"Hey, I'm surprised to hear from you so late," I managed to croak out. Surprised was the understatement of the century. More accurately, I was in a state of shock as a result of being interrupted while fooling around with my best friend, naked, in her bed, by my boyfriend who should have been asleep hours ago.

"Yeah, I know," he admitted. I could almost see his strong hands rake through his hair as he spoke. "I couldn't sleep. Nerves I guess. I just needed to talk to you. Hearing your voice will calm me down."

"Oh, what do you want to hear me say," I practically purred, my confidence spurred on by what I had just done.

"Tell me you believe in me. Tell me that I will play beautifully tomorrow. Tell me you love me," he begged.

I couldn't deny him anything.

"I love you," I breathed. "And you will be…."

Just then, my words stuck in my throat as I felt warmth press itself against my sex.

I looked down to see Angela's lips pressed fully against my lower lips, a bashful yet determined smile played on the edges of her mouth.

"What was that sweetheart? I think you cut out," Edward interrupted. "You said I would be…"

Angela's lips parted and I watched as her pink tongue left the confines of her mouth and parted me, sliding along the length of my slit.

"Incredible!" I exclaimed, answering both Edward's spoken question and Angela's silent one.

"You're going to be there in the front row, right?" He continued.

Angela's fingers had now parted my skin and she was circling my clit with her tongue. I couldn't help the way that my hips lifted of the bed, riding out the pleasure she was giving me.

"Yes. Yes!" I replied, a flush working its way quickly through my body. I knew I was close.

"I am so glad that you are coming. I would be a mess without you," Edward explained.

"I'm glad too. So glad that I'm…I'm…"

Angela's middle finger pressed into me at the same time that she sucked my clit into her mouth. That was all it took to push me over the edge.

"I'm…I'm coming!" I exclaimed, nearly groaning out the words. My legs shook violently as I arched back and let the fire envelop me.

"Thanks baby," I heard Edward say through my bliss induced fog.

"You're welcome." I breathed.

There was very little talking after that, only lingering glances and soft touches. Eventually we both fell asleep in Angela's bed, my hand on her hip, hers on my belly, both of sleeping securely beneath the blanket of the soft light streaming in through the windows.

Mrs. Weber knocked on the door around 6:30. There was a chill in the air and I jumped, surprised as the sharp sound broke through my slumber.

I dressed in a hurry, grabbed my things and snuck the door before Angela could wake up.

I just couldn't face her. Would it be weird? Would we feel ashamed? Would she regret it? I don't think I could handle it if she did.

The whole way to Seattle, I sat still. Silent. Twisting my fingers around the strings of my blue hoodie and replaying my night with Angela over and over in my head.

The excitement, the heat, pleasure…and the fear. Where did this leave our friendship?

Edward and I sat, hand in hand on the bench just outside my first period English class on Monday morning. He was reading, but all I could do was nervously chew on my pen and scan the parking lot for Angela's car.

It was dangerously close to the start of first period and she still wasn't here. In three and a half years, we had never once failed to meet up before school. No one else even bothered to sit on this bench. It was well known that our little group met here each morning…except today.

We hadn't talked all weekend. Not one phone call. Not a single text or email. Another first.

The bell rang and Edward finally looked up from his book. "Where are Angela and Ben?" he wondered.

"I don't know," I answered, a mixture of anxiety, shame, and fear growing and festering in my gut.

I saw her a few times before lunch, walking to Spanish with Ben, leaving Anatomy; so I knew she wasn't home sick. At lunch we sat next to each other, letting the boys do most of the talking and never once making eye contact.

The rest of the week progressed in pretty much the same fashion.

"What did you do to Angela?" Ben asked Friday morning in English.

"What?" I asked, suddenly terrified that somehow everyone had figured out exactly what I had done to Angela.

"Is she mad at you or something?" He followed up.

"No, we've both just been…busy."

Edward had been listening to our exchange from the next row over. "I am still dropping you off at her house after the movie or is she too busy for girl's night this week"

"I don't know," I answered honestly.

Ben cut in right away. "Of course their still having girls night. It's all Angela talked about last night."

"Ready?" I wondered aloud, surprised.

Ben shrugged as if it was no big deal. I suppose it had never been a big deal. But this week it was. The future of our friendship hinged on this very important night. I truly hoped that our friendship was still in tact. And a small part of me couldn't help but hope that maybe she would want to do it again. Deep down, I knew I did.

Edward dropped me off at the usual time and just like always, Mrs. Weber met me at the door and I slipped past her and headed to Angela's room. The weight of the world rested on my petite shoulders as I brought my hand to the doorknob and turned.

Angela was watching a movie on her bed, resting against the headboard, ankles crossed.

"Hey," she said.

My brilliant response was "Hey yourself."

I sat beside her in my usual spot on her bed and we watched in silence for several minutes. As the silence stretched on, my unease grew and grew. At some point we would have to start talking again. And we would have to talk about what happened last week.

When the ending credits started playing, I had finally decided that it was better to just rip the band aid off in one painful tear as opposed to dragging it out any longer.

"So about last week…" I started. But Angela spoke at the same time.

"Bella I wanted to talk to you…" she said.

We giggled and suddenly the anxiety slipped out of the room like air out of a balloon.

"You go first," I offered, reaching across the bed for the popcorn.

She looked up through her lashes sheepishly "Pretty crazy night, huh?"

"I'll say," I agreed.

Silence fell over us again. I had just worked up the courage to continue the conversation when Angela beat me to it.

"So…" she trailed off, looking away from me. "Do you want to do it again?"

"Definitely," I replied with more enthusiasm than I had intended.

We slid under the covers, grinning like Cheshire cats.

Mrs. Weber opened the door and poked her head in the room. "Good night girls," she sang in that mom voice that meant time to go to sleep. I had better not hear you.

"Good night" we replied in unison, our eyes locked on one another and our hands already wandering under the covers.


End file.
